The Night Before
by IrenaAdler
Summary: How Robin and Don got from the gun range to his car. Prequel to The Morning After. Takes place during episode, Guns and Roses


_Damn, someone else is here._ She could hear the skilled pop-pop-pop of someone comfortable with a gun. One of the main reasons why Assistant US Attorney Robin Brooks came to the gun range on Friday nights was so no one could see what an awful shot she was. She was diligently practicing, hoping to somehow improve.

There was also the fact that she rarely had anything else to do on a Friday night. Well, nothing fun anyway. A pile of paperwork was waiting for her at home.

She picked up her protection gear and started to walk to the far side of the range … and froze.

She recognized that ass. She had spent most of a week trying not to stare at it. She inched closer and saw the thick black hair she longed to comb her fingers through. Don -- FBI Special Agent Don Eppes -- was standing in the shooter's slot.

When she had met Don Eppes over a month before, she hadn't really looked at him at first. She was too focused on making sense of Anton's murder. Then Don had stepped in between her and Colby Granger and that jerk Gary Walker. Don had defused the situation and got them moving in a useful direction. A few minutes later, Don was running interference between his mathematician brother and Walker. Then he had suggested a warrant sweep -- a step that both she and the gung-ho Walker could agree on. This man had serious people skills.

The first time she really looked at Don was when he was standing up at the whiteboard, patiently explaining Charlie's concept of shooting chains to her for the fifth time. Maybe part of the reason she was having trouble grasping what he was talking about was that she had just noticed his lips. They were full and unabashedly sensual.

As she'd watched, Don had turned towards the whiteboard to illustrate a point he was making. Robin had let her eyes roam his body. He'd taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Even through the disguising cloth of his suit, she could tell he had a great ass. She was a bit of a connoisseur of asses and knew a sweet one when she saw it.

She had watched him many times after that, enjoying his expressive face and the sharp mind behind it. He'd shown up in the office once in jeans and a T-shirt and her mouth had watered.

He'd also wrapped up Anton's murder investigation with skill and discretion. Anton's death had meant nothing after all, but at least the next undercover agent wouldn't be in more danger. Competence was so sexy. The last time she'd seen Don, he'd gripped her hand, smiled, and said that maybe they'd be working together again sometime. She'd spent the last month trying to find an excuse to go over to his office.

Now he was here, standing with his feet spread in a classic shooter's stance, his left hand bracing his gun hand. Robin glanced towards Don's target and was not at all surprised to see two perfect groupings.

He pressed the button to pull the target in, and Robin stepped back, out of sight. She gave her hair a nervous pat then walked in and "discovered" Don.

"Nice shooting," she commented.

He turned to her, pulling off his ear protection. "Hey, Robin Brooks, look at you."

She smiled and he leaned in to kiss her cheek. That threw her, it really did, but she held on to her smile.

"What's going on?" Don asked with a smile of his own. "I didn't think US Attorneys were allowed to get their hands dirty."

"Well, you can't prosecute what you can't understand, right?" Robin said then winced inside at the inanity of the comment.

He looked down at the gun in her hand. "Wow, look at that. That's a lot of gun."

She hefted it in both hands. "Yeah, well it gives me a chance to actually hit something."

A couple of people walked behind her. The gun range was busy tonight. She couldn't care less, because Don was still standing there, smiling at her.

_Say something. _"Look, I didn't get a chance to thank you after the John Owens case."

"Ah, that's alright," Don said, his face turned serious.

"Yeah, your team handled it all really low key and because of that I was able to go forward with my gang case." _You did a helluva job._

"Good, I'm glad it worked out." His smile began to return and he leaned against the divider.

She smiled back and said the next thing that came to mind. "So, do you always hang out at the gun range alone on a Friday night?" _Oh smooth. Imply he can't get a date._

"Well," he drawled, "Clearly it's where all the pretty girls show up."

Robin's heart jumped a beat. "Agent Eppes, I don't think I've been hit on in a gun range before."

Don's smile grew wider and lit up his whole face. It wasn't fair, what that smile did to her knees.

She smiled foolishly back at him until the silence stretched too long. He didn't seem to mind, but she lifted her gun and said, "So, give a girl some pointers?"

"Sure." Don removed the clip from his gun and holstered it. He replaced his perfect target sheet with a clean one.

"Don't they make any bigger targets?" she mumbled.

"Naw, we can get you hitting this smack in the middle every time."

She shrugged and he pressed the target return button.

"Now show me your stance," he said.

"That's a line I haven't heard before."

Don laughed. "Come on."

Feeling extremely self-conscious, she squared her body to the target and raised the gun. She kept her finger far away from the trigger for now. At least she knew that much.

"Okay." He pursed his lips. "Set down your gun and close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Counselor, you gonna argue with me for the entire lesson?"

"I will, unless you call me Robin."

"Alright … Robin." he said, those lips caressing her name.

For her heart rate, maybe she should have let him continue to call her Counselor. She set her gun down on the counter. She closed her eyes. No longer distracted by her vision, she could smell Don – a masculine combination of sweat and gunpowder with a hint of aftershave.

She heard him pulling out his own gun and he took her hands. He placed the gun into her hands. His strong fingers wrapped hers around the handle.

"It's not loaded and the safety is on," he said. "It's lighter and will give you a better feel. Point it towards the floor. Good, now just raise it and point it forward."

She did so then started to turn to face the target. His hands lightly gripped her shoulders and stopped her moving.

"Open your eyes."

She opened her eyes and frowned. She was standing at a slight angle, not straight on, one foot a little bit behind the other.

"Good. Remember that position, I think it would work better for you. Now, stay still." He reached out and took his gun from her hands.

"Hmm, he's telling me to get into position and stay still," she said with mock concern.

"You betcha," he grinned. He loaded her gun and placed it in her hands. "Now give me a couple of shots. --Wait, hang on." He picked up her ear protectors and pulled them over her head, his hands lingering on her hair. He slid her yellow glasses over her face.

He adjusted her ear protectors and mouthed at her, "Okay?"

_Okay?_ She was standing close together with him, in a partition designed to hold one person. She could feel his breath on her cheek. _Well, I need to learn how to handle a gun under pressure._

She nodded. He put on his own ear and eye protection and stepped back. She stared at the target so far away. She tensed and put her finger on the trigger. Holding her breath, she squeezed the trigger. She shot two more times before she felt Don's hand on her shoulder and she lowered her gun.

He slid off her ear protectors and then his own. "That gun of yours has quite a kick," he commented and pressed the target retrieve button.

As the target came close, she grimaced. All of her shots were far off to the left. It looked like one missed the target entirely.

"Now I see why you went into law instead of the Bureau," he teased.

"Thanks," she said grumpily. She wasn't used to doing badly at anything. "Can I take my gun and go practice now?"

"Nope," he said, "We'll make a Thelma out of you yet."

"She drove off a cliff."

"I won't let you near a convertible then," he replied.

He frowned thoughtfully. "I'm not an instructor or anything, but the biggest thing I can see is you're tensing up too much. That and I think that gun is too heavy for you."

Replacing her pathetic target with a fresh one, he sent the target sailing back. "I think you should actually try shooting with mine."

She flashed him a grin. "You certainly like me handling your gun."

Don laughed and slid the clip into his gun. "Careful," he teased, "It's loaded."

"But does it have a hair trigger?"

"Just requires firm handling."

"I'll remember that."

He laughed again then said, "Now shoot, Robin, or we're never getting out of here."

She raised her eyebrows at his implication that they'd be leaving together.

"Shoot!" he said.

She lifted the gun, and tried to take a deep breath. She lost her breath as he slid her hair aside and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Relax," he coaxed, rubbing her shoulders. His thumbs began making little circles on the base of her neck.

"Agent Eppes," she said through gritted teeth, "You're not helping."

He chuckled. "Sorry." He stopped rubbing her neck but kept his hands lightly on her shoulders.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He put her ear protectors on, then held it away from one ear and murmured, "Now, very gently."

Letting go of her, he stepped back, but not very far back.

Don's gun felt more natural in her hand. She shouldn't have let the gun store owner talk her into her cannon. She aimed and squeezed the trigger. The recoil was much less than she was used to and she was able to bring the muzzle back quickly into line for two more shots.

She lowered the gun and he pressed the target retrieval button.

All three of her shots had connected, though they were still too far to the left. "Not bad," he said warmly, "Not bad at all."

"You're just saying that because you realize I'm beyond even your skills."

"Oh, I don't know about that." There was his radiant smile again and she felt like she was melting in the hot sun of it.

She put the gun down on the counter before she dropped it. "How about buying a girl a drink to celebrate actually hitting the target three times?"

"Sounds good."

The next few moments were about cleaning and storing the guns and protective gear and signing out of the gun range. Robin put her gun into a case, but Don's returned to his hip, looking very natural there. She wondered if he even consciously realized he always carried it.

They walked out into the parking lot. It was an unusually clear summer night for LA. You could actually see a few stars.

"My car's over here," Don said, turning to the left.

"You get to drive?"

"Are you saying that you prefer to be the driver?"

"Sometimes I like to drive and sometimes I like being taken for a ride."

He grinned. "I'll remember that."

With a beep, he unlocked the doors to his car and went around his side. She opened up the passenger door and slid inside. She shut the door and reached for her seat belt.

"Robin," he said softly and she turned towards him. The seat belt slipped out of her hand.

Then suddenly there was no gap between them and his mouth met hers.

His lips were warm and soft, his kiss firm but not demanding. She leaned closer, deepening the kiss. His hand held her face and stroked her hair. His touch, his taste was everything she imagined it would be.

_Forget the bar. I'm going to take him home._

Then his damn phone rang. She wished he would ignore it, but knew it was futile. He was tethered to his job with a very short leash. She nibbled on his ear and kissed his cheek, but she could already feel him pulling away from her. Her lips reached for his fingers. He jerked his hand away to get a better grip on his cell phone.

"What?" he said, disbelief and horror coloring his voice. He looked at his watch. "Oh. I'm on my way."

"What's wrong?" Robin asked. He was shutting down right in front of her eyes. All his warmth had vanished.

"I gotta go."

"Are you okay?" she asked, but he was obviously not okay. He felt miles away from her, instead of a mere foot.

He tried to say something then just wiped his mouth. Wiped away her kiss.

Turning his keys in the ignition, he started his car and Robin reluctantly climbed out.

He looked at her but didn't see her. "I'll talk to you later," he said.

Robin shut the door and he drove away, not looking back once.

She stared after the car, running her fingers across her lips, feeling the pressure of his lips on hers. In just a half an hour, he'd taken her from loneliness, through anxiety, triumph and arousal, then dropped her straight back into loneliness.

Tonight, she'd had his attention, briefly, then he was back on the job. And onto a bad case, it sounded like. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shivered in the warm LA night.

_I'll never see him again._


End file.
